Niku
III was the expedition that couldn’t happen, but we made it happen anyway,
and for a while we wished we hadn’t, but then we were awfully glad we
did.

Making it Happen

In the spring of
1996, prospects for another major expedition to Nikumaroro looked promising.
We had just concluded a short preliminary trip to the island (our first
since 1991) which had turned up some interesting new artifacts – the plexiglas
and the radio cables (see TIGHAR Tracks
Vol.12, 2&3). Two project supporters had made pledges totalling
nearly $200,000 which gave us an excellent start toward putting together
the estimated $1,000,000 budget for a major operation in the fall of that
year. For media coverage, the PBS science series NOVA had indicated a
strong interest in doing a documentary about the expedition. The coming
year, 1997, was to mark the 60th anniversary of Earhart’s disappearance
and the 100th of her birth. If there was ever a time to solve the mystery
“Once And For All,” this was it. Accordingly, we made a commitment
to mount the long-awaited Niku III Expedition and began the always daunting
task of assembling the logistics, the team, the technology, the media,
and the funding.

The first problem
that turned up was ship scheduling. No suitable vessel was available for
our desired September/October time period. November looked like a possibility.
Then NOVA decided that they would prefer that the expedition happen early
in 1997. We were a bit concerned that this would put us into the Central
Pacific’s cyclone season, but the region around Nikumaroro rarely experiences
storms, so we agreed to reschedule the trip. NOVA also insisted that we
provide some way for them to get aerial views of the island. That meant
equipping the expedition with an ultralight aircraft – a major expense
and complication – but two team members came to the rescue with an offer
to equip the expedition with an ultralight aircraft on floats. NOVA made
it clear that they wouldn’t pay a rights fee for the privilege of filming
the expedition, but they indicated a willingness to pay their share of
the ship charter and to give TIGHAR a share in videotape sales of the
documentary. They also wanted to cover the expedition live on their internet
website. We weren’t at all comfortable with that idea, but everyone agreed
that such issues could be worked out in negotiations toward a mutually
acceptable written contract.

Then both of our
financial supporters backed out of their pledges. No hard feelings, but
no money. Contributions from the TIGHAR membership made it possible for
us to continue to look for major funding, but it ultimately turned out
to be a fruitless search. Dozens of proposals to corporations met with
the same response: no. However, getting product support (as opposed to
cash) was relatively easy. A growing number of companies were pledging
and providing technology and services, but without funding there could
be no expedition. By mid-January the situation was desperate. Our credibility
as an organization rested upon our promise to do this expedition, but
there was no money to do it with. On top of that, after six months of
work and assurances, there was still no contract with NOVA and negotiations
were stalled on a number of issues.

By reducing the projected
stay at the island from one month to two weeks, and by changing to a smaller,
more economical ship, we were able to get the expedition’s cash budget
down to $200,000, but it may as well have been $2 billion. Then, in a
triumph of generosity over judgement, a member of TIGHAR’s board of directors
offered to loan the organization $100,000. Suddenly we were halfway home,
but where could we possibly find the other half? Earlier, ABC News had
expressed interest in the project but we had explained that we were trying
to conclude a contract with NOVA. Now, with the situation critical and
those negotiations deadlocked, we notified NOVA that we were opening the
door to other possible offers. ABC stepped forward and, with the Discovery
Channel, offered to complete our expedition budget and produce two one-hour
documentaries, one to air on the network’s Turning Point series, and the
other to air as a Discovery special. A formal contract was quickly concluded,
we breathed a huge sigh of relief, and preparations for departure moved
into high gear.

Our high spirits
were short-lived. NOVA and its parent WGBH filed a lawsuit against TIGHAR
and against its Executive Director personally, alleging that there had
been an implied contract. Damages of $101,354 were sought. ABC was not
named in the suit. Our dismay can be imagined, and the need to make arrangements
to defend against these allegations was the last thing we needed on the
eve of departure, but if the intent of the suit was to stop the expedition,
it didn’t work. On February 20, 1997 the Niku III team departed Los Angeles
aboard an Air Pacific 747 bound nonstop for Fiji.

The
Expedition

Practice makes, if
not perfection, at least familiarity. TIGHAR first sailed out of Suva
for Nikumaroro in 1989 and fully half of the twelve-person team on this
trip were veterans of that initial expedition. For the fourth time the
TIGHAR flag flew from the masthead of a ship bound for the far away Phoenix
Group. As we left the harbor, we passed the rusting hulk of Pacific
Nomad. Nine years ago, proud and fit, she had been our home for Niku
I. As we slipped by, with our graying hair and our reading glasses, she
whispered to us of time, and mortality, and the false god Glory.

Our
ship this time out was Nai’a (pronounced “NIGH ya,” meaning
dolphin in Hawaiian), a graceful 110 foot motor sailor that normally makes
her living as a live-aboard dive excursion vessel around the Fiji Islands.
Able to support 18 passengers for an extended voyage, and with her towering
sail providing added stability and enhanced fuel economy, she proved to
be the ideal ship for our needs.

At 8 to 10 knots,
the 1,000 mile passage to Nikumaroro took the usual five days, during
which some team members studied up on technology, others debated search
methodology, and a few lay seasick in their bunks and prayed for death.
But Niku, like the dawn, always appears eventually and, one morning, it
was there – a dark sliver that slowly spread across the horizon, turned
green, and grew a white line of surf along its base. The local dolphin
delegation came out to surf the bow wave of their namesake as familiar
landmarks became distinguishable along the shoreline.

As
we approached the landing channel – a narrow, dynamite-blasted passage to
the beach through the surrounding reef – we could see that we had a problem.
Normally, the set of the sea swells at Nikumaroro is from the east, which
puts the landing channel on the leeward or protected side of the island
and makes for easy access to the shore. But these were not normal times.
While we were en route, a tropical depression formed behind us, grew into
a storm, and soon matured as a full-blown cyclone (as hurricanes are called
in the South Pacific). The far away swirling disturbance was generating
large swells that pounded Nikumaroro from the northwest and transformed
the normally calm landing channel into a vicious, churning cauldron. For
the next two weeks, just getting people and equipment on and off the island
was to be a daily near-death experience.

Some planned operations
had to be scrapped entirely due to the high seas. The ultralight aircraft,
obtained and transported at such trouble and expense, could not even be
fully assembled, let alone flown. GPS (Global Positioning System) control
of the archaeological work was defeated when the data-collecting base
station on the beach had to be disassembled and moved to prevent it being
washed away. Other operations were carried out through improvisation and
determination. A remote-sensing EM (electromagnetic) survey of the area
where the remains of a woman’s shoe were found in 1991 turned up indications
of a possible unmarked grave, but excavation failed to reveal signs that
the earth had ever been disturbed in that spot. However, the remains of
a very old campfire were discovered, excavated and recovered very close
to where the shoe parts had earlier been found. In the lagoon, an EM and
magnetometer survey, supplemented with visual searching by divers, failed
to turn up any indication of airplane debris in the covered area. However,
only a small fraction of the three mile long lagoon could be examined
in the time available. In the abandoned village, search and survey operations
were hampered by torrential downpours that threatened expensive equipment
and made life miserable for the soaked searchers. Still, over one hundred
separate artifacts including a number of aircraft-related objects, were
mapped and recovered for later analysis.

As
the time approached for us to leave the island, Tropical Cyclone Gavin moved
farther away allowing the seas to subside just enough for us to demobilize
and get our gear and people back aboard Nai’a. But then, to
our dismay, another tropical depression formed between us and Fiji and quickly
grew to become Tropical Cyclone Hina. This was the “worst case scenario”
everybody talks about – like finding a grizzly bear in the middle of the
trail back to the cabin. Within four hours of departing Nikumaroro (a
day earlier than originally planned), we found ourselves in a white squall
with driving rain and rising seas. Hour by hour the storm intensified.
Wind speed became a matter of speculation when the anemometer was carried
away. Sea heights eventually reached an estimated 40 feet, more than enough
to capsize Nai’a’s 30 foot beam had she been caught broadside.
The ship had never before been asked to survive in such mountainous seas
and all nonessential crew and passengers were confined to their cabins
lest they fall (or be felled) on the wildly pitching deck.

With the storm continuing
to build, the decision was made to abandon our course for Fiji and make
for the sheltered waters of Funafuti Atoll in the island nation of Tuvalu.
On the fourth day of our beleaguered return voyage, a battered but still
buoyant Nai’a entered the atoll’s spacious lagoon. During World
War II the tiny island was a B-24 base and today Air Marshall Islands
provides airline service to Fiji. It was hoped that we could still make
our scheduled flight back to the U.S. and three team members took the
last seats on the flight out that day. By late the next day the weather
had improved enough for Nai’a to continue her voyage, but nine
team members elected to stay behind on Funafuti and catch the following
day’s flight to Fiji. The flight did not come that day, or the next day,
or the next. Air Marshall’s entire fleet (both airplanes) was grounded
by mechanical and crew availability problems for the next six days and
the “Funafuti Nine” found themselves stranded on an island they
never intended to visit in the first place. It seemed a frustrating end
to a disappointing and often harrowing expedition, until the last day.

Some say it was the
storm. Others contend that it was a change of heart by Nikumaroro’s guardian
spirit Nei Manganibuka. Still others say that perseverance simply pays
off. Whatever the reason, beginning with the interviews that occurred
that last day on Funafuti (see “I Saw Pieces
Of An Airplane”), TIGHAR’s luck changed dramatically and the
five months that have passed since the expedition’s return have seen piece
after piece of the Earhart puzzle suddenly fall into place. The new evidence
that has surfaced since our return is providing a fresh picture of what
really happened long ago on an island far away. Much of what was once
speculation is now documented fact and the prospects for a “once
and for all” solution to the Earhart enigma are very bright indeed.
Even the NOVA suit appears to be on the brink of settlement. In June,
a series of articles in the Boston Globe castigated NOVA/WGBH for
its arrogance and poor business practices, including a penchant for frivolous
lawsuits. Ultimately, ABC offered to buy the footage NOVA shot of TIGHAR
expedition preparations, in return for which NOVA has agreed to drop the
suit and any allegation of wrongdoing by TIGHAR. As we go to press, the
settlement documents await only their signature.

This expedition tested
our resolve in many ways, and we met the test. Thanks to the unfailing
support and encouragement of the TIGHAR membership we’ve come out on the
other side of the storm with a new promise of ultimate success. There
are still many questions to be answered on Nikumaroro. The world still
wants a serial number, and that will come. For us, the questions now are
not questions of whether or not, but questions of how, why and precisely
where. As we approach the end of the puzzle, the pieces fall more and
more quickly into place. This is the fun part. It was worth the effort.

Copyright 2011 by TIGHAR, a non-profit foundation.
No portion of the TIGHAR Website may be reproduced by xerographic,
photographic, digital or any other means for any purpose. No portion
of the TIGHAR Website may be stored in a retrieval system, copied,
transmitted or transferred in any form or by any means, whether electronic,
mechanical, digital, photographic, magnetic or otherwise, for any purpose
without the express, written permission of TIGHAR. All rights reserved.